Dragon Ball: Enlisted

– Wraak –

The schedule wasn't as tight as Instructor Calia had made it seem.

They were allowed to sleep, have breakfast, and even have some time to themselves before the assessment began.

But the eldest son of the Waarthar clan, Wraak Waarthar, wasn't pleased. Not that anyone noticed. To most of the other recruits, he resembled a hulking reptile—and crocodilian features weren't known for their expressiveness.

He cast a lingering glare at the silver-haired woman standing quietly at a distance, his gut churning.

'Irelia Ginga… why the fuck is she even here?'

She was the Galactic Princess.

Or rather, she was the brench-seijin the Galactic King had randomly decided to adopt one day. No one knew the details behind that decision, but the rumors of her prowess echoed throughout the galaxy.

Some whispered she had been completing S-Class missions since childhood. Others claimed she was trained as an assassin, molded for high-risk missions due to her special abilities.

If even a fraction of the rumors were true, there was no need for someone like her to be here.

'There goes my spot as the number one rookie.'

Wraak gritted his sharp teeth as he thought that, barely holding himself back from snarling out loud.

He had been training himself since he was a hatchling. When it came to combat, he firmly believed his potential was second to none. And with a weapon, he was even better than that.

What did this mean? It meant that he was confident in his ability to raise the fame and reputation of his clan. That as long as he continued to train diligently, he would become at least an A-Class in the patrol and carve his place in history.

But with this…

"Damn it!" Wraak growled as he kicked a loose stone.

They were outside the facility at one of the training grounds, so the rock wasn't aimed at anyone. However, it flew and landed at the feet of a different recruit.

A man with short spiky black hair, brown skin, and dark eyes. He wasn't very tall by Wraak's standards, plus he looked like he hadn't trained a day in his life.

Just seeing him pissed Wraak off more.

"And there's this worthless trash. Why is he even here?" He commented, loud enough that others could hear.

His name was… Jin? Djinn? Whatever. Wraak despised him for the exact opposite reason of Irelia.

Jyn looked clueless, drifting around and staring into space like a bumbling idiot. He barely had any muscle and walked with an air of complete disinterest. He looked like an arrogant buffoon, in Wraak's eyes.

Wraak refused to believe he was a Saiyan, despite some people already spreading rumors that he was at breakfast.

'Black hair and dark eyes don't make you a Saiyan, you fools.'

That guy's eyes weren't black—just really deep brown. And his name was Jyn! That's nowhere close to a Saiyan name.

'He probably bribed his way in and hid until the exam was over. That's the only way someone like him could've survived.'

From Wraak's perspective, Jyn was a wretch who lowered the reputation of the galactic patrol. To him, it was this person who Instructor Gruen was talking about when he said some of them didn't deserve to be in the patrol.

'Those rumors will be replaced with mockery soon enough. A clown like him isn't worth thinking about.'

Wraak looked to the side with a huff. There he saw one of his other roommates.

A short woman with blonde hair and pink skin. He thought he knew what race she was at first, but she had green eyes so it wasn't the race he was thinking of.

Despite her soft facial structure, she carried herself with the casual ease of a seasoned fighter. Calluses marked her hands, and her muscles, while not bulky, were lean and defined.

'Her name was… Edith, right?'

If he had to have someone as a subordinate to his rise, or even as a rival, it would be her.

She wasn't anyone special, but neither was he in her eyes. His clan was still relatively unknown, after all. It was hard work that had brought them here, and they likely shared the same desire to improve that strength.

A kindred spirit, he felt.

As he was staring at her with something bordering on respect, Edith glanced up at him—and immediately narrowed her eyes.

"Fuck are you lookin' at, prick?"

"...Huh?" Wraak blinked. What the hell had he done to deserve that?

"I ain't gonna repeat myself, jackass." Edith's tone dripped with impatience.

"A-are you speaking to me?" He… did not stutter. Waarthar's did not stutter and stammer like children.

She sneered. "Am I lookin' at anyone else? You stupid?"

"..." Wraak stood there, utterly dumbfounded.

'What the hell just happened?'

He hadn't even said anything to her, and she was already picking a fight with him. Was this some sort of joke, or was he losing his mind?

His temper flared.

"Listen here, you disrespectful wretch. I am Wraak Waarthar of the mighty Waarthar clan. I know not what your problem is but—"

"Don't care." Edith cut him off without a beat quickly turning back to fixing her clothes.

Seeing that, Wraak's eyes twitched before his annoyance reached a peak. It went so far past rage it circled back around to an eerie calm.

And unfortunately, he couldn't even reply again, as the instructor had arrived.

He closed his eyes, a single thought echoing within his mind.

'I hate everyone here.'

The recruits around him were mingling idly as if the instructor hadn't arrived, further cementing his disdain for those around him.

It was only once Apricot clapped his hands together did everyone stop yapping. The sheer force of that single motion sent a gust of wind rippling through the crowd. 

Even Wraak felt it, scales bristling. A wave of tension filled the air instantly.

That was enough to erode Wraak's irritation, as it was replaced by admiration. The other recruits might be disappointing, but the instructors were worth learning from.

Back home, only someone like his father was able to command such natural strength.

That was another reason why he'd come here. To learn from those who were strong—to absorb their teachings and grow to one day surpass even them.

One day, his mere presence would shake the stars.

As Apricot began to speak, Wraak listened intently.

To reach those heights, he'd first need to learn everything he could from those above him—and only then would he leave them in the dust.